What Motherhood Really Taught Me About “Having It All”

This morning, my youngest ran down his preschool hallway for the first time. He stopped every few steps to touch the artwork on the walls. “Ada, mama! Ada!” Animal, mama! Animal! He hardly glanced back. As other parents corralled their little ones, I stood frozen in the doorway, tears flowing despite my best efforts to keep it together. It was the second time—in two weeks—I found myself crying at school drop-off. My oldest walked into kindergarten (with the same determined stride) just a week prior. Two boys, two milestones, and a mother feeling the bittersweet weight of time passing too quickly.

image above from our interview with Alex Taylor

The Space Between the Milestones

As I type this, my home is quieter than it’s been in years. For the first time since becoming a mom, I have stretches of hours where I’m not tending, entertaining, or chasing someone small. By all cultural accounts, this should be the moment when balance finally feels possible. But if I’m being honest? Balance isn’t what I feel. What I feel is space—strange, unstructured space. And what I’ve come to realize is that parenting has never really been about balance. It’s about embracing the seasons along the way.

Why Balance Misses the Mark

Speaking of, we’re told balance is the gold standard: the ability to juggle family, work, friendships, health, marriage, and personal growth with ease. Like a set of scales, perfectly even, day after day. But real life doesn’t behave like that. Especially not life with kids. Motherhood is in constant motion—fluid and ever-changing. There are days when caring for my family takes everything I’ve got. There are days when my work as a writer and health coach asks for more. There are days when nothing goes as planned, and I’m reminded that flexibility matters more than anything. All of that to say, I’ve stopped striving for balance. And truthfully? My nervous system is steadier because of it.

What I’ve come to realize is that parenting has never really been about balance. It’s about embracing the seasons along the way.

Seasons of Motherhood

I can clearly divide my journey through motherhood into distinct chapters. The baby years were a season of survival. Nights bled into mornings, and my body belonged to someone else. While my career didn’t vanish, it shifted into the background. The toddler years were (read: are) a season of intensity. They’re equal parts silliness and big, big feelings.

It’s been a season of doing everything in sprints—writing during nap times, squeezing in early morning workouts, and throwing together a quick dinner after the park. Like clockwork, the rhythm of our family life has changed yet again. For the first time in years, there is space to rediscover myself outside of motherhood (which feels both daunting and liberating).

Womanhood in Seasons

Of course, it’s not just motherhood that moves this way—womanhood itself unfolds with a similar rhythm. There are seasons when your health requires attention: recovering after birth, navigating hormonal changes, or rebuilding energy after burnout. There are seasons when friendships flourish, and seasons when they fall quiet because life is demanding elsewhere. There are seasons of career building, and seasons where ambition softens. What I’ve learned is that the trick isn’t to keep everything balanced all at once. It’s to recognize which season you’re in and give yourself permission to fully live it.

The Pressure to “Have It All”

Of course, society loves to tell us otherwise. A good mother also has a thriving career, glowing skin, toned abs, a full social calendar, and time for self-care. And if you don’t? Something must be slipping. But what if nothing’s slipping? What if it’s simply not the season for that right now? During my baby years, I wasn’t climbing an entrepreneurial ladder. And that wasn’t failure. It was alignment. I was honoring the season I was in.

Now, as my boys step into school, I feel another shift. Work has space to expand, and I can lean into it with energy I didn’t have before. Rejecting the myth of balance means rejecting the guilt that comes with it. It’s a reminder that different priorities take center stage at different times. And I firmly believe that’s not failure, that’s wisdom.

When we embrace rhythm instead of balance, we learn to flow with the demands of the moment. We stop asking, how do I do it all at once? And start asking, what does this season require of me?

Naming Your Season

As September unfolds, I find it grounding to pause and ask myself: What season am I in right now? It’s a simple question, but it changes everything. It quiets the comparison, the guilt, and the pressure to juggle more than is realistic. Right now, I’m in a season of transition. The boys are off to school, I’m reclaiming pieces of myself, and I feel the pull toward work and creativity in a way I haven’t in years. It’s not perfectly balanced, but it feels true. And I know another season will come soon enough, with its own shifts and surprises.

Finding Freedom in Rhythm

This morning’s preschool drop-off reminded me of just how quickly seasons change. One moment you’re rocking a baby to sleep, the next you’re standing in an empty house, wondering where the years went. Balance may be a myth, but rhythm is real. Life will always shift. Priorities will rise and fall. And taken together, these seasons weave a life that is far richer than anything balance could promise.

So maybe the question isn’t how do we balance it all? Maybe the better question is this: How do we honor the season we’re in? Because motherhood—and womanhood—has never been about balance. It’s about seasons. And each one, fleeting as it may be, is enough.